Endless
by Queen of Panic
Summary: Titanic AU Cosette is tired of being tied down. Enjolras is her wealthy yet reluctant fiancee. Grantaire is a penniless artist, Marius is just plain penniless. Jean Prouvaire is a blooming poet and Azelma is broken. When these six meet they are swept into a world of love, lies and secrets aboard the fated Titanic. E/R, MariusCosette, and Jehan/Azelma. Rated T for TRAGEDY!
1. Chapter 1

**... because who doesn't love a Titanic AU!? Actually I'm writing this while having writers block for my other story, and I've had the idea of this for a while. Oh and no set character is Jack or Rose, and yes, some last names I got from the movie, cuz I'm really not sure if 'Enjolras' or 'Grantaire' are first names or surnames, but I like them as first names (they sound all frenchy and cool ^-^) So... yeah. Hope you enjoy :D**

**Disclaimer: Les Mis and Titanic are (sadly) not mine. **

* * *

"_So, Miss Pontmercy, are you ready to go back to the Titanic?"_

_There was a long pause._

_"Miss Pontmercy...?"_

"_It's been 84 years..." The old lady began, a dreamy look in her eye._

"_I know, I know, but please... try to remember..."_

"_You didn't let me finish. It's been 84 years, and I can still smell the fresh paint..."_

* * *

Cosette Fauchlevent stepped out of the buggy, squinting through the glaring sun at the huge ship that stood before her.

"It doesn't look _that _big..." She said to her father, well aware of just how spoiled she sounded.

"Oh come now, dear, it's the best money could buy." Cosette sniffed haughtily. Her father sighed. "Cosette, be reasonable! When we get back to America, you and Enjolras will be married! Isn't that exciting?

"You got that right." A voice said coming up from behind the two.

"Ah, monsieur Hockley, wonderful to see you!" Mr. Fauchlevent wrapped his arms around the blonde boy.

"Ultime, please," He said gently pushing the older man away. "It's Enjolras to my future father in law."

"Of course, Enjolras."

"And Cosette, hello." He greeted politely kissing her hand. "Shall we board?" Cosette looked away.

"If you insist."

"Alright, then. If you would just follow me this way then..." He took her gloved hand, gingerly.

"But... our luggage..."

"Yes, I have someone taking care of it, now, please, can we board? I absolutely hate crowds..."

Cosette sighed. This was going to be a very long voyage indeed.

* * *

Grantaire Dawson looked across the table at the three young men sitting across from him. He put his cigarette in his mouth, inhaling deeply. "Alright, lads, cards down. Someone's life is about to change..." In unison, the tree men slapped the cards down on the table. Grantaire studied them, taking another long draw from his cigarette. "Marius..." He said slowly. The boy cringed.

"I lost everything, didn't I?" Marius Pontmercy was the kind of boy who would lose everything. Medium height, with short hair and freckles sprayed across his nose. Just asking for all kinds of bad luck.

"Well, actually..."

"Actually...?" He raised an eyebrow. "Actually what?"

"ACTUALLY GET YOUR STUFF! WE'RE GOIN ON THE TITANIC!" He exclaimed, throwing his cards in the air, watching happily as Marius's face lit up, and the two other men's expressions soured.

"I can't believe it! I'm going to America!" The freckled boy shouted gleefully. Suddenly, one of the men grabbed Grantaire and pulled his fist back. Grantaire cringed, expecting the punch, but instead, the man punched his companion.

"'S what ya get for bettin off our tickets." He grumbled, glaring at Grantaire. Grantaire, shaken, took the tickets off the table and put them in his front pocket, facing a surprised Marius.

"Your welcome. Now lets get packin'."

"Yeah."

"Wait- are you boys going on Titanic?" The bartender asked. Both boys nodded, puffing their chest in pride. "The Titanic boards in 5 minutes you idiots!"

"AH CRAP!" Grantaire shouted as they sprang into action, swiping the remaining cards, money, and cigars into their bags. They dashed out of the bar and darted through the crowds of waving people, to the porthole door, which a crew member was just now closing. "WAIT, SIR! DON'T CLOSE IT YET! WE HAVE TICKETS!"

The crew member looked them up and down.

"Have you been through inspections?"

"Uh... pfft, yeah! Definitely!"

"Ok... I guess. C'mon, quick." And the two fatefully jumped into the Ship of Dreams.

* * *

"'Zelma, would you hurry up?!" Her father barked back to her, walking quickly down the narrow hallway.

"Sorry, Papa." She said, trying to ignore the ache in her back, and the heavy bags she was forced to carry. Since when was she the pack mule?

"Aha, this is our room." He grumbled, fumbling for the key to open it. Three words to describe what Azelma saw next: Small, tiny, cramped. And... four other men. Realization dawned on her: Her father intended her, a girl of 15, to share a room with four other men. When said men saw the pair, they nodded gruffly, almost all in unison.

"Gueulemer." A huge muscular man, but from what Azelma could see, not a very big brain.

"Claquesous." Tall and skinny with a long face and oily back hair.

"Babet." A large man, not muscular like Gueulemer, more around the middle. He had a bald head and a big nose.

"Montparnasse." Not old like the other ones, young, about 20, dark and handsome, with red lips, blue eyes and glossy black hair.

"Thenardier." Her father greeted, shaking each one's hand.

"Azelma." She whispered, not making eye contact. Especially not with the dark tall handsome one in the suit. "Papa, can I talk to you?"

"Not now, 'Zelma. Why don't you run along and say goodbye?"

"To who, Papa?" She asked not thinking. His face darkened and he turned toward her.

"I will not take any of that sass from you, Miss. Just because you're riding on a luxury boat doesn't give you the excuse to think you're a damn princess." He slapped her. Hard. "Now go. Now."

The other men laughed roughly.

Swallowing the lump in her throat she nodded and left the cabin.

* * *

"Okay, according to the ticket our room is right... here." Marius stopped in front of a cabin door. Grantaire looked doubtful.

"You sure, mate?"

"Positive."

"Double checked?"

"Yup."

"Alrightey then, lets meet some roommates!" And with that, they opened the door to some of the strangest people they'd ever met.

"Hi! You must be our roommates! I'm Courfeyrac!" A boy their age bounced over and shook their hands. Shocked by the sudden greeting, they stammered their names too. "Pontmercy...? That sounds french! Are you from France?"

They nodded. "Oh my goodness! Us too! And here I was thinking this would be AWKWARD!" He laughed. "Ah, Fei, 'Rel, where're your manners? Introduce yourselves!" The other two, obviously embarrased by the boy Courfeyrac's outgoing attitude, stepped forward.

"I'm Feuilly."

"Bahorel."

Feuilly and Bahorel. One was shorter with blond hair sweeping his shoulders, green eyes and arching eyebrows. The other was tall and extremely robust, with choppy brown hair and a swollen eye. They were contrasted with each other, and each other with perky Courfeyrac, with his dark curly hair and dark eyes. They glared at him, and Courfeyrac seemed to get the message and mellowed down a lot.

"So... are you two here instead of the... uh.. others?"

"Um... yeah."

Bahorel smiled impishly. "Cool, you both can have top bunks."

"Sweet!" Marius exclaimed, hopping into a bed. Grantaire rolled his eyes. Did he not just realize that they were getting the top bunks? Uncomfortable, cramped, hot, lumpy beds awaited the boys. Grantaire smiled. Soon poor little Marius would find out top bunks on a ship were complete and utter hell.

* * *

Cosette and Enjolras walked through their suite, thoroughly examining it.

"It's a little... small, don't you think?" Enjolras asked walking into the parlor.

"I think it's fine." Cosette said dreamily, running her fingers over the polished wood of the mantle piece. Something caught her eye.

"Enjolras, what are these?" She asked dully, holding up one of the many paintings laying propped against the wall.

"Don't touch, those are expensive!" She rolled her eyes.

"I just don't see why you spend your time investing in all those finger paintings..."

"They're not finger paintings... I find them rather azure" He picked one up. .".. like being in a dream or something."

"Oh really now? Who's the artist?"

"I don't remember... something Picasso..." A knock at the door.

"It's open." Cosette called. Her father walked briskly in.

"Ah, Cosette, Enjolras, just checking in, you two are coming to the dinner tonight, aren't you?"

"Yes, father, this is the night we're announcing our engagement." Cosette replied politely.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Enjolras added.

"Yes! Yes yes yes! I almost forgot! Well, be down in dining room A in twenty minutes." He left. Cosette sighed and slumped against a wall, watching her future husband hang the paintings.

* * *

**So yeah... this chapter was a little short, and I think I'm abusing the purpose of those line thingys but whatever ^-^ **

**Please R&R! Constructive criticism is loved :) **


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm here from Poland, hopin' to make sommore money in America... y'know," Feuilly explained as he, Marius and Grantaire lounged out in the sun of the third class deck. Grantaire nodded interestedly, while Marius gazed distractedly overhead.

"Whatchu lookin' at, boy?" He said waving his hand in front of the other boy's face, to no reaction.

"He's been like that since we got here..."

"What's he even lookin' at?"

Grantaire pointed ahead to the first class deck. To their surprise he was staring at a girl a very beautiful girl, staring out to sea, not noticing the three amused onlookers. Feuilly chuckled.

"Marius, there's more chance this ship will go under than you ever gettin with the likes of HER."

"But... isn't this ship unsinkable?" Marius asked, still staring at the girl.

"Exactly." All three kept watching, until another young man, a tall blonde, came up to her. Grantaire's eyes widened.

"He's perfect..." Feuilly and Marius's eyes shot over to their friend. "I-I mean... he's perfect for her..." Grantaire stammered. They kept staring at the couple. "I'm gonna go... draw stuff. See you later!"

* * *

Leaning over the railing of the deck, letting the salty breeze low his hair back from his face, Enjolras got the weird feeling he was being watched. Turning around, he saw a young man perched on a chair holding a sketchbook, glancing up at him. Surprised, he maneuvered his eyes back out to sea, and waited until the man looked down at the paper again to confront him.

"Excuse me sir, but you do know this deck is for first class passengers only, right?" He asked, mildly annoyed. The man stared at him for a long time.

"How do you know I'm not first class?"

Enjolras looked the man up and down. Scuffed shoes, second hand coat and trousers, stubbled chin, and a mane of dark curly hair. Rich brown eyes peered curiously at him.

"Lucky guess." Enjolras retorted smartly. Grantaire smirked.

"So... If I'm such a menace, why don't you DO something about it?"

"I... I never said you were a menace..."

"Grantaire." He held out his hand.

"Enjolras." They shook. "So, menace,"

"Hey, that's MR. Menace to you."

"What class deck ARE you supposed to be on?"

"3rd..."

"THIRD CLASS!? You really shouldn't be up here!" The blonde exclaimed. Then, leaning forward he said softly, "Someone could catch you, you know." Grantaire leaned in too.

"I think someone already has." His voice barely a whisper. They stayed like that, leaned in, almost touching noses, staring into one another's eyes for what seemed like forever. Eventually, Enjolras came to his senses, realizing just what was happening here, and that he was engaged, and there were people around. So he did the only sensible thing: He swiped Grantaire's sketchbook, and flew to the nearest chair to look at the sketches. Grantaire stood rooted to the spot, dazed and confused. Enjolras cleared his throat.

"Well... these are... quite good." Grantaire snapped out of the trance and threw himself across the table, grabbing the book and literally tumbling into Enjolras's lap, much to Enjolras's horror.

"What are you doing?! We're in PUBLIC!"

"Sorry, sorry," Grantaire said, color filling his cheeks. "It's just... I don't like people seeing my work till it's done."

"Of course. Well, Mr. Grantaire, I best be off now, I hope we see each other again."

"Certainly."

As he was walking away, Enjolras tried to clear his mind of what he thought he saw. Blonde hair, square jaw, stony expression. What had Grantaire been drawing?

* * *

"Ah, monsieur Enjolras, how nice of you to join us." The captain smiled pleasantly, but Enjolras could tell everyone at the table, the captain, the ship's designer, his future father in law and Cosette, were all mildly annoyed at his absence.

"Uh, sorry there was a... situation on the top deck..."

~Cosette's POV~

Cosette was boiling over. She felt as though if she didn't get out of this painful continuous loop, she would perish. Become an empty shell, like everyone else here. A high class empty shell, but a shell nonetheless.

"Excuse me, mother, I wish for a bit of fresh air." She whispered before running out of the dining room.

No matter how hard she breathed, it seemed there was no oxygen in in her lungs. She gasped and kept running. This would not be her life. She would rather die. She would die. She wanted to die. Coming to the end of the massive ship, Cosette made up her mind.

"I'm sorry, Papa," She whispered to the churning black water below. Then... one foot up, another foot up. She was about to slide off the edge when she heard someone shout,

"Don't jump!" Startled, she looked around. A boy, her age, was watching her shyly. "I mean, if you jump... the water... it's cold." He waited for a response. Not getting one he bent down and started unlacing his boots. "I remember this one time, gosh I must've been... I dunno, three, four, my grandfather decided to take me ice skating. Boy, what a mistake that was. I skated over a thin patch of ice and BAM! I found myself sinking down in the coldest water I'd ever imagined." He shed his coat. "In water like that, you can't think, you can't talk, you can't breathe. It hits you like a thousand knives." He paused, letting the words sink in. "And that's why I'm really not lookin forward to jumping in after you."

"...What?"

"Oh yeah," He said. "I mean, who else is gonna pull you out from those giant propellers. They'll suck you right in, chop you to pieces. Us, to pieces." Cosette was silent for a while.

"Can you...help me back up?"

"Certainly." He said, relieved. She turned around and started to climb back over the railing when her foot slipped. Marius caught her hand just in time, to have her dangling off the rear of the Titanic. She screamed loudly.

"Shh! It's...it's gonna be all right! Now just um... take my other hand..." Panicking, she obeyed. "Now try to walk up the side of the boat."

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!"

"JUST DO AS I SAY!" Whimpering, she kicked off her shoes and climbed up the side. He then hoisted her over the rail, tripping in the process so still holding Cosette, he swung around and landed on top of her.

"Cosette Fauchlevent." She whispered, her mouth inches from his.

"Marius Pontmercy."

They were about to get up, when three men in uniforms ran up.

"We heard screamin-" One said, noticing the scene. A girl, pinned down to the ground, a man over her... his shoes and coat thrown aside. "Oh my god..."

"How DARE you lay hands on my fiancee!" Enjolras shouted, enraged. Marius glared at him, handcuffed, while Cosette sat wrapped in blankets.

"I told you, I was rescuing her!"

Enjolras scoffed. "As if. Now if you ever have the nerve to lay a hand on her again I swear I will-"

"But he's telling the truth!" Cosette said suddenly. "You see, dear I wanted to see the uh, propellers, when I... slipped! Monsieur Marius here helped me up."

"Women and machinery... never mix." Someone chuckled. They had attracted quite a crowd.

"Well, in that case, Monsieur Marius should be commended." Enjolras snapped his fingers and a man unlocked the cuffs. He opened his wallet and started leafing through a wad of bills.

"Are you really going to PAY someone for just saving the woman you love? I thought... I was much more to you!" Cosette mocked. Enjolras thought it over.

"You're right. Monsieur Marius, would you care to join us for dinner tomorrow?"

Marius thought it over. "Can I... bring a friend?"

"Who?"

"My roommate, Monsieur Dawson. Grantaire Dawson." Something changed in Enjolras's usually stony expression.

"Of course." He replied quickly.

Shortly after that, everyone left, except for Marius and an older woman. Obviously wealthy, well dressed, with short blonde hair and white teeth.

"Monsieur, what were you planning to WEAR to that party?"

Marius gestured down at his current outfit.

"That's what I thought. Listen, you and your friend stop by my cabin tomorrow, and we can get you situated."

"Alright." He said as she walked away. "Oh, um, Ma'am?"

She turned around.

"Where can I find you?"

"Oh, just ask for Mrs. Felix Tholomeyes."

"Oh, um... okay."

* * *

During this epoch, Azelma had fallen off her bed for the 5th and last time. Giving up on sleep, she pulled on her frayed jacket and snuck out, not hard to do with 5 other men whose snoring easily outdid the occasional blow of the ships horn. She climbed the stairs from 3rd class, to 2nd class, to 1st class, and finally onto the decks. The cold air gave her a burst of adrenaline. She smiled happily, running across the decks, when...

WHAM.

Azelma found herself sitting flat on her butt, rubbing a sore spot on her head, feeling quite dazed. What, or who, had she run into?

He had light brown hair, tied back into a ponytail, green eyes and a small freckled nose. From his clothes, Azelma immediately knew he was a first class citizen. Her cheeks flushed bright red.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir." She said quietly, handing him a notebook, which had flown from his hands.

"Quite fine, miss. It was my fault entirely."

"Monsieur, it's quite alright. If... If you want to report me to the crew or something..."

"What?! Why would I do something like that?!"

"Well... I... I hurt you, didn't I?"

"Nah, I'm fine. Aw where are my manners? I'm Jean Prouvaire. You can call me Jehan."

"I'm Azelma. Azelma Thenardier. You can call me... Azelma I guess." He laughed even though it wasn't very funny.

"Charmed, Miss Thenardier." He bent over and kissed her hand. Azelma giggled.

"Well, Monsieur Prouvaire, I better be going. My father will be wondering where I am."

"Wait! When can I see you again?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Monsieur! We just met! And... and.. Um... I'll be here tomorrow, I guess."

"It's a date." He said blushing.

"Well, good night, monsieur."

"Good morning."

"Good morning?"

"It's after midnight. It's morning."

Azelma rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, Mr. Prouvaire.

She went back to her cabin, her head swimming.


End file.
